


broken glass

by auroracalisto



Series: Victor Zsasz/Reader [11]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demon AU, Eventual Romance, F/M, Guardian Angel/Demon AU, M/M, More tags to be added, Reader is injured in this, Slow Burn, Zsasz is kind of a dick, Zsasz was a serial killer a hundred years before you were born in this, gender neutral reader, mentions of injury, reader is sometimes abused, victor is not abusive it's just other characters are asses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroracalisto/pseuds/auroracalisto
Summary: “You can see me?” he stared at you in confusion.“Of course, I can fucking see you—”“—you shouldn’t be able to see me,” he quickly stood, letting his phone drop on the couch he sat on.
Relationships: Victor Zsasz/Reader
Series: Victor Zsasz/Reader [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656385
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i can't with myself

It’s funny. Never in a million years would Zsasz have imagined that he’d be assigned a human to watch over—let alone someone like you. 

A bullied loner who was never without your cellphone. 

Zsasz that it was ridiculous. He stayed far away from you at first until his boss called him and told him that if he didn’t try protecting you, he’d be the one in trouble instead. So, one night, he was at your house. He was a demon—one that shouldn’t really be messed with, too. In his life before now, he killed so many. It was one of the reasons that he was a great demon. No sympathy. But something was different. Something just felt different.

You peeled the sheets off of you, needing a glass of water. The glass you had beside your bed was empty. Sighing softly, you picked it up and slipped on your slippers as you walked out of your bedroom. You only wore a nightshirt and a pair of underwear. Of course, you never thought in a million years that there would be a fucking bald man in your damn living room. You dropped the glass in your hands, your eyes growing wide when you saw him. “What the fuck—”

The man looked up from his phone, frowning. He wondered what you were looking at and froze when he realized that you were staring directly at him. “What—”

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?! I’ll call the police,” you said, taking a couple of steps back. 

“You can see me?” he stared at you in confusion. 

“Of course, I can fucking see you—”

“—you shouldn’t be able to see me,” he quickly stood, letting his phone drop on the couch he sat on. 

“Get out of my house,” you practically begged at this point. 

“Wait, just listen to me for a second—”

“I’ve seen you before—I’ve seen you everywhere I’ve been. Can you just leave me alone? What do you want from me?”

“You’ve seen me before and you never said anything?”

“Why the hell would I try to talk to my stalker?”

“Stalker?! Look—”

“Get the hell out—” you stepped back onto the glass that you had dropped minutes before. You winced, drawing in a breath. 

“Great,” Victor groaned and closed his eyes. “Jesus Christ. Okay. Let me help you. And I’ll explain, okay? I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll get in trouble if I do.”

You clenched your jaw, not saying a word to him as he came over to you. He lifted you up in a quick, fluid motion. Your hands gripped onto the black overcoat he wore, and he carried you to your bathroom.

“How the fuck do you—”

“—know where your bathroom is? Just let me explain.”

You grumbled under your breath, pissed and uncomfortable. But you let him get to work. He pulled out the glass with a pair of tweezers. 

“I’m a demon.”

“What—”

He shot you a look, not requesting that you shut up, but you closed your mouth anyway.

“I’m a demon,” he repeated. “I was assigned to watch over you. I don’t know why you didn’t get a fucking angel,” he breathed through his nose, clearly agitated. “But. I was told if I help you out, I’ll finally get where I need to be. See, if I help you, then I don’t need to fix you like this,” he rolled his eyes. “I’ll finally be able to do things for other people, not just for myself.”

You watched him in confusion.

“I can’t heal you,” he shot you a look. “But I can heal myself.”

You sighed and looked down at your injured foot. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes. He finished with the bandages and stood up, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against your sink. “Why don’t you do anything that I can actually help you with?”

“Didn’t you just—”

“—not that kind of helping.”

You pursed your lips, looking down at your hands for a moment. “What, uh, what’s your name?”

“You want to know my name?”

“If you’re gonna continue stalking me, shouldn’t I at least know what to call you?”

He smirked a bit. “Zsasz.”

You tilted your head. 

“Victor Zsasz.”

Your eyes widened a bit. “What—you—the serial killer? You—no wonder I fucking recognized you. But I thought you were dead, you lived about a hundred years ago—”

“Demon.”

“Right,” you winced at the word. “Well. What… do you have to help me with? To get where you need to be?”

He smirked. “Well, that’s the thing. I don’t get to decide. You do.”

You looked at him with a confused expression. 

“Good luck deciding,” he sighed. “I’ll show up tomorrow. Don’t put too much weight on your foot,” he said before disappearing into thin air. 

You stared at the spot in front of you, wondering if it was just a fever dream. I guess you would really find out once you woke up in the morning. You went to bed that night without your glass of water and an injured foot. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kind of a transitional chapter because it's been a hot minute since i posted the first chapter. this is just to help me get into the groove of things again!

You hadn't seen Victor for some time. 

In fact, even though he said he would have returned the next day, you saw little of him for the next two weeks. 

But you had no idea how to contact him. You still knew so little about him, other than what you had managed to find at the Gotham Library. 

Speaking of, that's where you were at the moment. And you were exhausted. You yawned into your hand and got to your feet, checking your phone as soon as you stood. It was nearly midnight. You were surprised that the librarian hadn't told you to leave, but as you walked by, thanking them, they just smiled at you and you went on your way. You pulled your jacket close and held onto your bag as you walked along. 

Gotham was always dark at night, but something about tonight was darker. 

Pulling your bag closer to your body, you frowned. A cold breeze ran by you. You picked up your pace, but you forced yourself to stop as you looked towards a man across the way. But you didn't know who it was. It wasn't anyone you had ever seen before. 

You let your hand hang down next to your pocket, as you were ready to pull out your mace if you needed to. But instead, a hand enveloped yours. Your eyes widened and you quickly looked up; you relaxed as soon as you had realized that it was, indeed, the man you had been expecting to see for some time; Victor. 

You gripped onto his hand and quietly let him lead you along. He stared directly at the man across the street and he left, not wanting to deal with the mystery man who looked as terrifying as he most likely was. This was Gotham, after all. 

Rounding the corner, you looked up at Victor with an incredulous expression. 

"Where have you been?"

"Busy."

"That's it?" you rose an eyebrow. "You told me you'd show up and then you disappear for I don't know how long—"

"—two weeks."

"Okay," you furrowed your eyebrows at him. "Kudos to you for keeping track. But what happened to—"

"—as I said," he tightened his grip on your hand, giving you a forced grin. "I was busy."

You pulled your hand away, frowning. He had held on just a little too tight. You looked away from him. 

Victor sighed and rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I'll kill him," he said. "You should have heard what he was thinking," Victor said, his eyes hardening into a dark glare. "He'll be eating his—"

"—I don't need to know what you're going to do to him," you quickly said. You cleared your throat before speaking again, "Aren't you supposed to save me or some shit? Why didn't you let him attack me and then you could have come swooping in."

He glanced towards you. "I don't know if you've realized this. But I cannot control what's going to happen—"

"—didn't you just prevent him from attacking me? Seems like you're protecting or preventing or whatever the hell you want to call it."

Victor stopped for a moment, letting you walk a couple of feet ahead before he disappeared into thin air. 

You frowned, releasing a soft sigh, as you made your way up to your apartment. A part of you wondered what in the hell was going to have to happen for Victor to leave. But another part of you wished that he would come around more, so you could figure out why this was happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot how much i loved to write for victor


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we gonna say that the reader doesn't have a lot for this chapter. actually the whole story. that'll work. like,,, she has an apartment, but she also like,,, doesn't have a ton of valuables. it'll make sense when you read this omg

Yet another week passed by without any sign of Victor. 

You had started to wonder if it was all a part of your imagination; were you just crazy?

You lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling. You didn't know what time it was; your phone was across the room. However, you knew you had been lying there for some time. Hours, maybe. You just couldn't sleep. 

You had almost drifted off to sleep when you heard footsteps coming from your living room.

"Shit," you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. "Not again."

You had expected to find Victor standing in your living room again, as you walked down your hallway. What you didn't expect was to find two burly men standing in the middle of your living room, clad with knives, and who the hell knows what. You stayed quiet; you weren't about to get yourself caught. You took a couple of steps back, prepared to book it out of your apartment. But one thing led to another and you bumped into the small table you kept in your hallway, just a little ways away from your front door. 

Realization struck one of the men as he looked over. Your heart dropped, but you quickly backed to the front door. You turned to open it, the locks proving much more difficult than they usually were. 

"Hey!" one shouted as the other came over to you, roughly grabbing you by your waist. 

"Wait—no, no, let me go—"

The man who had ahold of you roughly slapped a hand against your mouth. He smelled sour. 

"Shut the fuck up," he seethed, dragging you back into the living room. He let go of you and let you fall back onto the carpet. 

While the other man stood there, pointing a pistol at you, the other man went around and found many of your belongings. You didn't have much, let alone expensive things. 

The man scoffed. "This is stupid. They're a poor bitch," he glared over at you. "We can't get anything out of here."

"Well, damn," smirked the other. "Looks like you're out of luck, sweetheart. See, if you had anything, we might have just killed you quick and easy. But that's not the case, now is it?" He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to look up at him. "You have nothing, so we're gonna take our time," he smirked. "I'm sure no one's looking for you, hm? No one will care?" He let out a laugh, his pistol pressed up against your abdomen. 

"Wait, wait, please, I have money, I can get it for you—"

"I've looked everywhere. They don' have shit."

"Should've just stayed in bed, sweetheart. We would've just killed you in your sleep."

The gun was cocked. The cold metal dug into your skin and you took in a shaky breath, keeping your eyes on him. 

"Please, I'll give you anything—"

"—that's funny," scoffed the other man who had what little you had, stuffing it into a duffle bag. "You literally can't."

You swallowed thickly, squeezing your eyes shut. You don't know what you were prepared for. Hell, if anything, you weren't prepared for whatever it is they were about to do to you. 

The man threw you back on the floor and he pocketed his gun. 

"Speaking of fun," he chuckled darkly, pulling out a switchblade. "How does painting your apartment red sound?"

"Sounds awful," you shakily said, forcing yourself to back up enough to sit against your living room wall. 

He smirked at you and began to lunge at you, but you quickly rolled out of the way and got to your feet. Whatever adrenaline rush hit you, you took. You quickly ran to your bathroom, locking the door behind you. You looked around, trying to find anything that could help you. 

"Awe, trying to play hide and seek, are we?"

You didn't answer as you looked towards the small window in your bathroom. You didn't know if you could fit through it. It was small enough that your arms could fit through it, but the rest of your body? You didn't know. You moved a small shelf you kept in the corner of your bathroom and put it underneath the bathroom door handle. It was long enough that you could press it against the toilet and make it difficult for anyone on the other side to try and open the door. 

With that, you moved the shower curtain and got into the tub, your heart racing a mile a minute. You buried your face in your hands, trying to calm your breathing. 

A soft breeze came from beside you, and the rustle of the shower curtain could be heard. A hand was placed on your shoulder and you quickly moved away, nearly hitting your head off of the shower wall. You looked up with wide eyes, seeing Victor. 

"What the hell—"

"—what's going on? Why are you in here?" he asked. 

You could have sworn he looked mildly concerned, but that didn't mean he was. 

"There—" 

Before you could say anything, one of the men tried to kick in the door. The shelf you had against the handle and the toilet crunched slightly, but it didn't break. Not yet, anyway. 

"Why didn't you call for me before now?"

"What, I'm supposed to call for you anytime I need you, now?" you looked at him in disbelief. 

Victor rolled his eyes before he disappeared. 

You heard the men both shout out and then there was silence. It wasn't long before Victor reappeared in the bathroom and he moved the shelf out of the way, putting it back where it belonged. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand to you. 

You looked up at him, unsure if he was serious or not. But you took his hand, anyway. He helped you to your feet, watching as you winced and moved to place a hand over your abdomen. 

"What happened? Did they hurt you?"

"I got away before anything could happen," you frowned, looking up at him. "Where were you?" you asked, an amused expression now playing on your face. A part of you wondered where in the hell the men went, but the other part of you was grateful for the demon standing in your apartment with you. "I thought... I thought you were supposed to have an eye on me at all times—"

"—I told you last time."

"Right, busy. My bad."

You looked at the mess that the men created. But Victor just snapped his fingers, and in an instant, everything was back to normal. 

You frowned and you looked up at him. "Thank you... If you hadn't shown up when you did..."

He frowned at you. "Then I would have been sworn off to some other human. Thanks for not dying."

He clearly wanted to leave, but you grabbed onto his arm. "Talk to me," you quickly said. "Why isn't this over for you? You saved me, didn't you? Shouldn't you have the powers that you want?"

Victor frowned even more and he cleared his throat. "I'm not too sure about that, anymore."

"What?"

"That's what I thought this was. Some dumb ass test that would allow me to have more powers. But I don't even know, now. Every time I'm not here to protect you, something shitty happens and as soon as I'm here, well of course it's fine. But that's—hell, that's not the fucking point."

You stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt him. 

He hesitantly sat down on your couch, and you sat down with him. 

"Something is different. I asked around. No one's ever been assigned a human. So I don't fucking know what's going on. I thought it'd be how to protect you. You know, bad shit happens, I save you, something good happens to both of us. But so far, nothing good is happening to me. I'm still stuck here, with you, and even though I can leave whenever I please, I still know everything that you do—"

"—what?"

Victor's eyes widened a bit. "Nothing. Shit. Fuck," he breathed out, closing his eyes. "I won't be back. Don't get in trouble."

You frowned. "But wait—"

"—but nothing. I don't want to come back to this hellhole."

You parted your lips, but nothing else left you. You averted your gaze. "Thank you for saving me. Even if it didn't do anything for you."

But by the time you finished talking, Victor was gone, leaving you there, confused and traumatized. You had no idea what any of this meant. You were just a mortal; there weren't a lot of things that you were to understand when it came to angels and demons, other than what Victor told you. And from what you could tell, it seemed like Victor didn't have any idea, either. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two things. victor is lowkey a bitch, right? yeah. he a major bitch in this. not even lowkey. like highkey. anyway. other thing. i don't think this is confusing but if it is, I'm sorry lmaooooo

Your abdomen hurt like a bitch. You assumed that it was from just the other day—Victor hadn't exactly fixed you up the way he fixed your apartment. But that was also three days ago. Victor was still missing, and from what he said, you knew he wasn't coming back. 

"Hellhole," you scoffed, pouring a cup of coffee. You frowned deeply to yourself. "Who does he think he is?"

You made your coffee how you liked it before sitting down at your dining room table. You tried to think of what could be wrong. Hell, you had been doing that all morning. You had a couple of papers in front of you and your pen was almost out of ink. Your laptop sat in front of your coffee mug, several tabs about demons and guardian angels up on the screen. You had been stuck on one about guardian demons with a human to look after. It made your heart clench in your chest. Everything that you have read didn't make sense... but this one did. 

According to the article, demons who were assigned humans were to protect them because the human soul was made specifically to match with theirs. A soulmate, in a way. But there was a catch. If the human died, the demon would be subjected to punishment for not protecting them. That was where the power situation came in—if the human died, they wouldn't gain powers, but lose them. There was nothing about saving them and gaining power... but the more you stared at the article on your screen, the direr you realized the situation must be. Victor was supposed to protect you. But then that meant that you were made for him.

You began to frown, picking up your mug of coffee. You sipped at it, checking the time as you did. It was nearly nine in the morning. 

You knew you needed to call for him, to see what he had to say. But you didn't know if he'd actually show up. 

The first time you called for Victor, he didn't show up. So you let it be. But not for too long. You decided to run a couple of errands and a thought ran through your head—he was required to save you. What if you were putting yourself in danger? 

You didn't know if he was listening to you. 

You wanted to act like you didn't care if he did, but it was hard for you not to. You wondered if he was able to read the article just because you knew about it. 

Standing by the crosswalk, you stared towards the oncoming cars. You slowly put your foot down onto the white paint that chalked up the pavement. Before you could put your other foot in front of your first, a hand roughly grabbed your arm and pulled you back onto the sidewalk. 

"What the fuck?"

Victor.

You quickly turned to face him. 

"Are you stupid?" he asked you, looking at you in disbelief. "You must be stupid."

"We need to talk."

"Like hell we do. What the fuck were you thinking?" 

"I said we need to talk. You didn't come when I asked you. So..." you looked back at the stoplight. "I thought if I put myself in danger, you would show up."

"Well," he clenched his jaw, clearly upset. "I'm here now. What the hell do you need?"

You looked up at him and smiled. "I think I know why you were assigned to me."

He kept his eyes on you for a moment before he shook his head. "I think you're being ridiculous. As I said, I can't find a reason. No one knows."

"Right, because it hasn't happened since you died, right?" you questioned him. 

Several people who passed by you stared at you and Victor like you were both stupid. Victor rolled his eyes and glared at them before he took your hand. In an instant, the two of you were back in your apartment, alone. 

"What—" you took in a deep breath, your body tingling from the weird situation. "I—okay. I just—I was reading. I wanted to know what was going on. I found an article—"

"—get to the point."

You rose an eyebrow but you nodded. "Right. Well. The article said that you might have been assigned to me because I was made for you—"

He cut you off with a curt laugh. "What?"

"Yes, I know, stupid. But it makes sense. Have you ever read anything about soulmates? Like two souls that were perfect for each other?"

"Demon. I don't have a soul."

You frowned. "I don't believe that... but that's not the point. I... Victor, what if the reason that you need to protect me is that I was made specifically for you?"

"So, your omnipotent God created you for me? What happened to free will?"

You pursed your lips. You didn't know what to say. He did have a point. You frowned at him and sat down on your couch. "I just... I thought that it would make sense. Why else would you have to protect me?"

"Well, clearly, you just tried to get yourself killed. So there's a fucking reason."

The silence afterwards told you that Victor had left, and you were in your apartment, all alone again. This time, however, it made your heart ache. You closed your eyes and you let your head lean back against the couch cushions. Victor was being ridiculous... but you figured that maybe, it was fair. You did, after all, tell him that maybe his own free will had been stripped, had you been made for him. 

The thought made you uneasy. If that was true... then what were you even doing here? 

It would make sense. You never had a stable relationship. Every one of them ended badly. You were left in foster homes throughout your childhood and now, you lived in an apartment in the middle of Gotham, all by yourself. A demon showed up one night and everything since then has been odd. 

Perhaps it was all a bad dream. 

You got to your feet and walked over to your kitchen, biting the inside of your cheek as you felt something wet against your cheeks. You quickly wiped it away and you came to realize that you were crying. Placing your hand over your mouth, you held back a soft sob. Your neighbors would surely hear you if you weren't quiet. They would complain to your landlord, like always. 

You didn't know what had come over you, but the tears wouldn't stop. 

A hand placed itself on your shoulder and you quickly turned around, backing into your kitchen countertop. Your eyes were wide as they landed on the culprit. 

Victor stood there with equally wide eyes. He couldn't figure out why you were crying. 

"What—"

"—why are you even here?"

Victor frowned deeply. "[Your name]—"

"—no. Just.. go away. You said you didn't ever want to come here again, so go away, Victor."

He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Did I make you cry?"

You couldn't help the sour laugh that escaped you. "No. I don't... I don't know why I'm crying."

"You don't know?"

Victor frowned and moved closer to you. He watched you for a moment before he suddenly hugged you. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. 

He awkwardly cleared his throat before he spoke again. "I... think you might be right. I tried asking around again. I'm sorry I left. I just... wanted to figure it out."

You shook your head, your hands gripping onto his shirt. 

He frowned. "I've forgotten what it's like to be human. I haven't cried since—"

"—before you died?"

"Yes."

You slightly pulled back to look up at him. "You're an ass. And you need to stop leaving like that. I... I was starting to think it was something I said."

"It was. But... I need to leave again. I'm going to meet someone. Figure this out. I think you've pointed me in the right direction."

"Is that your free will talking?"

He rolled his eyes at you and pulled away. "Sure."

You sniffled and looked away from him. "You'll come back the next time I call for you?"

"Keep researching, okay?" he frowned. 

Just moments later, he was gone. And you were standing there, alone in your kitchen, confused by the demon. For someone who said he didn't have a soul, he was just as emotional as a human, and then some. 

You looked out your window, spotting the dark horizon. It must have been either really late at night or super early in the morning. You couldn't decide. 

You thought back to the article you told Victor about and wondered why he became so upset over it. But maybe it was more of the fact that you would have walked into oncoming traffic just to get him to talk to you and not the article itself. 

Despite what should have been reassuring words, you found yourself lying in your bed, thoughts rushing through your mind. Before you knew it, the sun was rising through your curtains, and Victor was back, standing across from your bed. 

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"You will not believe what I've found."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone got confused, here's a rundown: reader found something that might explain what was going on. victor didn't come to her when she asked, so she almost walked into traffic. he stopped her. they go back to her apartment. reader tells victor what she found. victor reacts negatively and goes away. reader is upset, thinks about her past, and then he shows up again when she's crying. victor somewhat comforts her and then leaves again. LMAOOOO okok uh


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if i'll continue this, i kind of drug into the ground alkdjfalkjf

_"You will not believe what I've found."_

Victor walked over and sat on the edge of your bed, his arms still crossed over his chest. He kept his dark eyes on yours as he cleared his throat. 

"What did you find?" you asked, walking over to your dresser to pull out a set of pajamas for the night. 

"I cannot believe I'm about to say this," he grumbled under his breath, "but you were right. Somehow, somewhere, some motherfucker decided it would be a funny ass joke to make demons have a soulmate. A way to 'cleanse' their darkened soul. Likely story," he scoffed. 

You rose an eyebrow, blinking slowly at the man. "What?"

He stared at you, clenching his jaw. "Right. Went straight over your head?"

"Victor, it's been a long day. Please don't patronize me."

His face fell slightly and he looked away. He didn't make another snarky comment towards you, but he obviously was not pleased with the information that he had found. 

"Apparently," he sighed, "Demons are capable of having souls. They are also capable of having soulmates. However... the—well, it only really happens when they come across a soul that needs saving. Should be a guardian angel's job. But yet, here we are. Anytime you call for me, I have to be there. Anytime you are hurt or about to hurt yourself, I have to be there. There's no way out of it. That's one of the main things that I've heard lately. You can't just choose to turn off a switch or some shit."

You frowned, sitting your clothes down on the edge of your bed. "Victor, I never asked for this. And you know it."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes. He looked towards you, nodding. "I know." Victor still wasn't over the fact that he treated you so badly the past couple of times he saw you, but you still continued to talk to him like he deserved a shred of decency. It confused him, to say the least. 

"Are you upset?" you asked, taking the seat beside him. 

He frowned, thinking for just a moment. "I want to be. I would like to be upset. But..." he closed his dark eyes, standing back up. "No. Not at you. At the Universe. I spent all this time living and tormenting, and now I have a soulmate who could hardly hurt a fly, let alone properly try to hurt herself?"

"Hey—"

He shot you a look, continuing on with his rant. "Out of everything that the universe has thrown at me. Why did they give me you? What did I ever do to—well... to deserve you."

Your eyes widened and you couldn't help but blush. "Deserve me?"

He awkwardly nodded, furrowing his eyebrows. "Yes. Deserve you. I murdered. I've done things that I will not mention to you because Hell knows if you would be able to stomach it. I used to cut my body with every damn person I ever killed. I was a damn good hitman, and you can't deny that. And now, I'm a demon. So why. Why do I get a soulmate? And why now, after all this time being alone?"

Your eyes softened at this comment. You didn't even realize how long he would have been alone. Sure, perhaps he had his demon friends and maybe even a couple of other supernatural friends and perhaps humans. But humans will eventually die. And you didn't know the life span of supernatural creatures. He wasn't mad at you. He wasn't mad at the fact that now, he had some helpless human to take care of. He was mad because he didn't think that he deserved it. He didn't think that it was right for him to have a soulmate. Hell, you didn't even know if you were truly his soulmate. That was the only thing that made sense to the two of you. 

But sitting there on the edge of your bed, watching as he looked out your bedroom window, you wondered if everything that had ever happened to you in your life happened for this specific reason. This specific moment. 

"Victor?"

He turned his head to look over at you. 

You had to tread carefully—it was almost as if you were walking around broken glass. You cleared your throat, your blush quickly returning. 

"You deserve to find some kind of normalcy. Some kind of happiness. It... doesn't matter what you've done or who you are. What you are. You... you've saved me so many times. Victor. You deserve to be rewarded by the Universe. Even if it isn't the way you thought it would happen. I'm sorry you're not gonna get your powers. I know that you were looking forward to that," you frowned a bit to yourself as you spoke. "But... but I promise, I won't judge you. For anything. I... I like the idea that we could be soulmates. The Universe decided that we were meant for each other. Doesn't... doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Victor sat down beside you as you spoke. He closed his eyes once more. "It does mean something to me. I just..." he looked over at you. "I've ruined so many things in my life. And on another note, you cannot expect me to change everything. I'll still leave when I want and say whatever the hell I want—"

"—I'm not asking you to change anything for me, Victor. Just stop disappearing. Stop... thinking you don't deserve something good."

As crazy as it all was, it shocked you to think that all this started with a little broken glass and your wounded foot. Had anything like that not happened, you would never have met Victor and realized that you had someone out there meant just for you. However, I guess the bottom line is, the world works in mysterious ways. 

Whatever the world would bring to you. Whatever Victor decided to throw at you. You knew you would be able to handle it. Because for once in your life, something finally made sense. And maybe that is all you needed. No matter how bizarre, no matter how many times you questioned the Universe's intentions. 

And perhaps, for Victor, all he needed was to realize that even though he believed he didn't deserve something good didn't mean that he wouldn't get it. 


End file.
